Happy in the Silence
by goldiejefferson
Summary: Just a quick little story about the Twelfth Doctor reflecting on his previous versions.


He enjoys being alone in the stillness. Of all the things that have changed - gray hairs and eyebrows in particular - this is what most surprises him. In the past, he seemed to only know silence and loneliness. spending so many years running from one and seeking companionship to banish the other. But he finds little need for either of those now. Oh, there is Clara. He knows what she has done for him and that he cared for her - still does - he silently corrects himself. She provides a level of entertainment and distraction, although not always needed or desired, and she is clever. Extremely clever. She's gotten him out of more than a few situations in their short time together he hates to admit. But he finds that this go round he doesn't need her to erase the quiet that fills his head or the TARDIS. He longs to spend time on his own; traveling and reacquainting himself with the stars and this feeling is invigorating. He wanders through the TARDIS corridors, running his fingertips down the smooth alloy walls and feels almost giddy that he's alone and at peace with this hushed existence. Like he and silence were in a perpetual battle and only now, after lucky regeneration number thirteen, some type of detente has been achieved.

He thinks back to how much the silence sickened him when he emerged; most noticeably and ironically, not dead, from the Time War. A new man with so much missing. The Time Lord bond had burnt along with the planet, and his mind felt charred in its absence. Where there was once a hum of constant thoughts, only ghostly echoes remained. Occasionally, his head had snapped up from the middle of some meaningless task feeling a haunting resonance cross his mind only to find emptiness and loneliness instead. For almost a century he traveled with them as his only companions. He battled them unsuccessfully and his descent into madness was almost assured. He knows now, with the clarity of a millennia of hindsight, that she...Rose Tyler...saved him. The last of the Time Lords. Her youth, exuberance and curiosity partially filled the solitude that threatened to swallow him. She bobbed around him like a human life vest in the sea of silence; saving him by filling his days and thoughts with chatter, laughter and company. It was entirely what he needed and as she dulled the silence she sparked his own voice.

From the moment he regenerated after Satellite Five he never stopped talking. To himself, to companions, to foes. In dangerous situations and not. It was as if he thought his rampant chatter, witty and brilliant though it may be, could fill the emptiness he felt inside. If he kept his body and mouth in constant motion he wouldn't miss what wasn't there. So he never stopped moving and for a while it worked. The manic energy drew companions to him like moths to a flame. He kept his companions close - they all made the TARDIS their primary homes in fact - yet none remained in the end. The more tightly he gripped them the faster they seemed to slip away, both literally and figuratively. And even after all that time spent moving and traveling with others, he had regenerated alone and beleaguered by that fact.

Ah, but Amelia Pond. The girl with the fairy tale name. She managed to tip the balance. Strong-willed, independent and Scottish she did what needed to be done. She chose a life outside of the TARDIS; a life with Rory, and by doing that showed him that solitude and togetherness can live side by side. That staying still wasn't something to be feared. And as he watched she and Rory leave; and then return to him, the shackles that held him back released. The fear of silence and being alone were no longer nipping at his heels but became something he welcomed as a comfort when life as a Time Lord became too much. He could allow them to dwell with him at times because he knew it was temporary; they would never be his only companions again.

Ironically, he had spent his last 900 years surrounded by others. He observed generations of residents in that tragic and wonderful town called Christmas come and go while he stood by; a slow aging sentry over the crack in Time. During his watch, there hadn't been loneliness. Or quiet. Or peace. Which made his current, silent walk down the TARDIS corridor all the more treasured. The lights warmly illuminated the gray metal and he noticed even the low level hum from the rotor had been muted, as if the TARDIS itself recognized his new appreciation for stillness. He stopped and closed his eyes, savoring it all.

Walking up to the console he glanced down at the radar and moved a dial slightly to the left. Without a second thought he pulled the lever down dematerializing in Clara's living room. He checked his alone time at the door before he opened it, speaking loudly, voice thick with his Scottish brogue.

"Where to next, boss?"


End file.
